Forever Calling
by Roses and Diamonds
Summary: Forbidden to love. Would you run from everything you knew to be free? This is the untold love story of Peter and Charlotte.
1. Prologue

Orange, pink, purple, blue. The same as always. The same sunset as every night. Not a change in probably millennia. The only thing that did not change in this ever differing world. To some, it brought happiness, beauty, courage, hope. Others, it brought finality, loss, sadness. To me? Only the sense of the sameness that came with each passing day.

I sighed as I stood up off the grass at the top of the hill I was currently occupying, stretching my arms in a routine that was meaningless. My stony muscles didn't need to feel the pull of extension before doing work. I sighed once again.

"Oi, Peter! You done daydreaming yet?" called a voice from behind me. Before I had time to respond, the person was beside me.

Without turning my gaze from the sinking sun, I responded to my partner, "You know I would never let that happen, Kevin. Jasper would tear me to pieces if I even thought of relaxing on the job."

Kevin chuckled. "True. So very true." His laughter faded, and I knew that he had caught onto a scent. "Ready to feed?" he asked with hunger coloring his tone.

Restraint was never a big thing with him. I would have to go with him or risk going hungry for a week until my next scouting trip. No point in staying to see something I had seen a million times anyways.

I turned my back on the sunset. "You know it."

With a mad laugh from Kevin and a growl from me, I unleashed the beast inside me, and we sped off into the growing night.


	2. A Bedtime Story

"And the beast ran off into the growing night," I said as I gently closed the book. The fire gave a pop in the fireplace downstairs, and Katrina's head stirred slightly on my lap. She had fallen asleep before the end of the story as she always did. She was like any five year old; she wore herself out during the day constantly running around and promptly collapsed at night. Gently, I brushed her copper curls off of her forehead and replaced them with my lips before slowly lifting her head onto her pillow. As if she could sense my intentions, her hand unwrapped from her doll and rested on my leg. A smile pulled at my lips for a fraction of a second before I removed her hand and pulled her quilt up over her slender shoulders. I let my hand travel to her cheek and linger there for a second or two but soon removed it. I wish I could always keep her this way. Young, innocent, and hopeful.

I blew out the candle on her bedside like I had done to my own hope. At 16, I should be bursting with life, gossiping about a girl getting caught at the old willow with a man or mooning over some boy I wanted to ask to the church social. To the real me that existed, that was laughable. Who cares about a church social when you have a father who can't come home until he's made enough money to keep us going? Or a mother who is having the life slowly sucked out of her by an incurable disease? Not me. The hope of a normal girl's life was blown away long ago in the winds of reality.

But I was still nursing a few embers in my hand. Hope for Katrina. Hope that she will somehow escape the pain of the real world and marry off to a wonderful man who will take her far away from here. Or become an independent woman who travels the world, spreading joy to all who meet her. She certainly always did that for me, smiling and laughing at everything, giving me strength.

So I didn't let the tears escape as I turned from her angelic face that was hidden by the darkness and slowly made my way down the attic ladder. Every night I fought this battle, trying so hard to keep the tears inside. And every night, I won.

I continued shuffling down the stairs until I felt the hard, wooden floor beneath my feet. Groping in the dark, I found a candle, lit it, and made my way past the stairs and into my parent's room. The light fell on my mom looking gray and unmoving in the dull light. Her usually bright and curly copper hair that Katrina had inherited lay flat around her face framing her much too thin cheeks. There really wasn't much time left for her. All the doctors had come with their shiny tools and wonder cures, but nothing could be done. The only thing there was left to do was to keep her happy and comfortable until she passed.

Setting the candle on her side table, I took her chipped and worn cup and filled it with the pitcher of water I'd left there for her. She had awful nightmares of being burned alive, and if I didn't keep the water there, she would start screaming and clawing at her face and neck. It was something I really couldn't allow Katrina to see. I didn't want her to remember our mother like that.

I once again picked up the candle and made my way out of the room. The slight breeze I created as I walked caused the small light to flicker, creating moving shadows across the walls that danced and played. When I was little, I used to think they were real people who just happened to be made of shadow instead of skin and bone. Of course, I was always envious of their happy and carefree ways. I cried myself to sleep for a month just hoping and praying that they were real. But like I said, I grew up fast.

Finally making it into my room, I set the candle on the dresser across from the bed, the only other thing in the room. We had sold the little desk, wooden rocking chair, and pictures in hopes that we could make ends meet. It kept us going for a while, but like all our other ideas, soon left us once again in search for the next bright idea with hunger making its home once again in our stomachs. So I was left with only this small dresser to hold my few pieces of clothing. Opening the drawer, I removed my night gown from next to my spare day dress and Sunday best. Quickly, I undressed, folded my current frock, placed it neatly in the drawer, and pushed it shut before pulling my tattered nightgown over my head. I wasted no time blowing out the candle, running to my bed across the frozen floor, and tucking myself under my thin quilt. Sadly, it was barely enough to keep me warm on a normal night, and this one was particularly cold.

But I'd had practice at being cold. Conjuring up images of warm furs, blazing fires, and cuddling in my father's arms, I promptly fell asleep, letting all my worries burn away in the heat of my thoughts.

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**A/N: Well, shortish chapter, but I really felt in the mood for writing. It's really late here so I couldn't write for too long! Let me know what you think cause I am always in the mood for praise or constructive criticism! Thanks!**

**~Roses And Diamonds  
**


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